


Harvelle's Pastries

by YoungAndReckless



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Fluff, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungAndReckless/pseuds/YoungAndReckless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean loves pie. Jo owns a pastry shop. </p>
<p>Dean scoops up the last of his pie onto his fork and shovels it into his mouth. Harvelle’s Pastries make the most delicious, mouth-watering pies he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. They also happen to have the most beautiful and unattainable waitress he’s ever laid his eyes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harvelle's Pastries

Dean drums his fingers against the table and glares at all the other customers in the shop. They’re rowdy, rude and inconsiderate. Dean wishes Sammy was sat with him. Even when Sam is just sat reading a book or doing homework he’s much more interesting than the other patrons at the particular restaurant. But there’s a girl here who Dean likes, and he’d rather not have his little brother laughing at him because he still can’t get her phone number.

Dean looks up when he feels someone getting closer to him, his dad always praised him on his awareness and his reflexes, and he notices one of Harvelle’s waiters. Ash is, by far, the strangest person Dean has ever met… He still has Jo Harvelle’s number saved into his phone though.

“What can I get for ya, dean?” He asks, pen already pressed against his notebook.

“Apple pie and a coffee, please” Dean answers, taking note of the fact that Ash had already started to write his order down before the words had even left his mouth. Ash gives a lazy, tired nod before heading towards the kitchens the hand the small slip of lined paper to Jo. Dean feels bad for him; he’d definitely not be able to work a job with as many demanding customers as this. The garage suits him just fine.

|:..:|

Harvelle’s Pastries always does well on days that come equipped with a slight breeze and a bit of rain. People want food that will keep them warm, good food that they don’t have to cook themselves. Today is no different. Jo lets out a sigh as she gets handed another tray of freshly cooked dishes, straight from the oven and ready to be eaten by ungrateful customers. She’s lost count of how many customers have complained about slow service today. The shop is overflowing.

“Ash! Who’s this for again?” She yells to her co-worker, letting out a laugh as he stumbles over to her with his notebook in hand, looking about as pleased to be here as she feels. Normally, Ash is quite happy, but having a hangover and working on a day as busy as this must be hard on him.

“Table 3 wanted the three steak pies with two cups of tea and an orange juice. Table 8 wanted the apple pie and a coffee… That’s your boyfriend at table 8” Ash laughs, placing his notebook on the bench and patting Jo on the top of her head; she’s like a little sister to him.

Jo kicks Ash in the leg with enough force to cause an “ouch, watch it! That’s my bad leg” to slip past his lips, but still not enough to completely wipe the smile from his face. Jo thinks Ash’s headache is hurting him more than that kick to the leg.

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a boy with a crush and eventually he’ll leave… There’s aspirin in my coat pocket” she mumbles, grabbing the wooden tray from the bench in front of her.

“Maybe, maybe not. Hopefully he’ll leave soon, we really need that table… and thanks” Ash responds, picking up his notebook and quickly leaving to take more orders before Ellen gets mad at him.

Jo shakes her head and follows him, a careful grip on the tray and a watchful eye on all of the customers. She sees her mother working behind the counter on her way to table three and shoots her a sympathetic look. The large queue weaving its way through the restaurant looks intimidating even to Jo.

Table three has two adults sat either said of it and a young boy sat against the wall. Jo walks towards them calmly and sets a steak pie down in front of each person as well as the cups of tea in front of the woman and the orange juice in front of the young, smiling child.

“I'm sorry for the long wait, we've been very busy today as I'm sure you can tell” Jo apologises, her smile forced and her kind tone scratching its way out of her throat. She doesn't want to be nice. She doesn't want to have to explain herself to the two woman who’s only responses are ugly sneers. But she has to.

“We've been waiting here for over fifteen minutes; my son is starving because of you! Your service is terrible, I want to speak to your manager” the woman yells, her sister nodding frantically from the other side of the table. The yell is loud enough to catch the attention of many other customers. Loud enough for Ellen to hear, as well as the customer sitting patiently at table 8. Ellen nods her head towards Bobby, telling him to start working at the counter and the leave the cooking to the other workers in the kitchen. Then she makes her way over to her daughter.

Dean watches with a smirk on his face. He’d been bored waiting for his food and watching people walk past the shop’s front window wasn’t all too entertaining.

“What’s all the commotion over here about?” Ellen asks once she reaches the table, a disapproving frown on her face.

“Are you the manager?” Asks the woman who’d just before yelled at Jo. Ellen silently nods her head, letting the girl continue on.

“We’ve been here for over fifteen minutes now and your employee has only just delivered our meals which I’m sure are cold now. This has greatly upset my little boy and I do think that we should get our meals free today for having to put up with this; your customer service is appalling! The girl starts off yelling, but throughout her speech her voice loses more and more volume as the full effect of Ellen’s glare sets in.

When Ellen concludes that the girl is done she Jo a small nudge, telling her daughter to continue serving the other customers.

“As I’m sure you can tell the shop is very busy today. If that makes for appalling service to you then I suggest you leave. Different meals take different amounts of time to cook, it does not call for you yelling and disturbing other customers. Please enjoy your meals now” Ellen states calmly before returning to the counter to help Bobby with the other customers.

Jo lets out a laugh as she watches the two women start angrily complaining to each other with bright red faces. She hears Dean laugh too.

“Thank you for the pie, Jo, and the entertainment” Dean says, smirking up at the blond girl as he skims his fingers over the napkin resting on the table, a clear sign for her to write her number down. Jo just rolls her eyes in response and starts to walk away. Dean doesn’t let it bother him. He just eats his pie in silence, letting the taste wash over him. This is his favourite place to go when he isn’t working at the garage or spending time with Sammy, His dad has given him the day off, saying Dean should go out and enjoy himself for a change. Dean doesn’t think his dad meant sitting in a diner unable to get a girls number.

Dean scoops up the last of his pie onto his fork and shovels it into his mouth. Harvelle’s Pastries make the most delicious, mouth-watering pies he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. They also happen to have the most beautiful and unattainable waitress he’s ever laid his eyes on.

Normally it’s easy for him to get a girls number. A charming smile and a few carefully worded lines and they’re writing down five different ways for Dean to get in touch with them. But not Jo Harvelle. Sam says she’s the classiest girl Dean’s ever liked.

Dean isn’t quite sure when she stopped being a conquest and starting being someone he’d like to date.

|:..:| 3 weeks later |:..:|

The rain forcefully splatters against the ground as the wind rushes past him. His clothes are soaked through to the skin and his hair is matted to his forehead. The streets are completely deserted and Dean can’t help but be reminded of all things zombie movies. There are dark clouds looming over his head, dropping rain onto him as though he’s offended them somehow. It’s already black outside, the sun unable to seep through and yet Dean keeps going. He can see the shop up ahead now. The sign standing out in neon lights against the wooden background.

‘HARVELLE’S PASTRIES’

Dean could have cheered with joy, but lifting his arms seems almost impossible. It’s so cold they’re frozen over his chest, trying to protect that small part of him from the rain.

Just a few more steps and he’s at the front door, pushing it open and coming face to face with a shocked Jo.

He steps fully into the shop, grinning at her as he lets the door slam shut behind him.

“Just came by the say hi” he smiles. Sam had called him an idiot when he’d said he was leaving the house, in the middle of a storm, to see Jo. Dean had told him to shut his pie hole. But now Dean’s starting to realise that, maybe, Sam had been right.

“You walked all the way here, in this weather, to say hi?” Jo asks, incredulously, Dean nods vigorously, shoving his coat from his shoulders and stepping forward from the small puddle of water that’s dropped from his body.

“To me? You wanted to say hi to me?” Jo tries to stop the smile from making its way onto her face.

“Yeah” Dean scratches at the back of his head.

“Maybe I can have that phone number now? Oh, and some pie too” Dean replies. Jo just laughs, already pulling her phone from her pocket.


End file.
